


Paradise Lost

by kathiann



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathiann/pseuds/kathiann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meandering random look at the relationship between Patric Jane and Grace Van Pelt done in eight parts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the mentalist_bb reverse bang. I had the pleasure of working with tromana on this. A story for each of eight songs on a fanmix.

Grace watched as the clouds came in. She didn't want to be here, but she felt as though she didn’t have a choice. She felt powerless against it. She shouldn't be here. She should be with _him._ But no. She wanted _that_ even less.

 

She remembers the first time she came to this beach, she was on vacation, her cousin was visiting from back Iowa and wanted a beach, not understanding that not all of California was movie stars and palm trees and beaches.

 

She's still not sure how she ended up on this beach. She just followed the signs for L.A. and the beach and ended up somewhere she wasn't sure they were supposed to be. But her cousin had always been more adventurous than she was and they parked their car on a street without a no parking sign and changed into their bikinis in the car, something she hadn't done since high school when their mothers thought that they were wearing the conservative one pieces suites to the lake with their boyfriends.

 

There had been others on that stretch of beach and the acted as if they belonged. Her cousin didn't waist much time in finding a hot young surfer to apply suntan lotion to her back. Grace had decided to throw caution to the wind and accept the offer of sunscreen from the surfer’s friend. She wasn't going to tan. Her red hair pretty much dictated that any “tan” that she got would go from pain to lobster in less than thirty minutes.

 

She'd brought a book to read, and while her cousin was admiring the muscles of the surfer, she looked up at the houses on the beach and cliffs behind them. One in particular grabbed her attention. It was no different really from the other houses on this stretch of beach. Lots of glass and flat roofs. But there was something about this one that stuck in her mind, made her search through her brain until she thought she'd go crazy.

 

Just when she was going to interrupt her cousins shameless flirting a voice beside her told her where she had seen the house before.

 

“It looks better in person, doesn't it?” And she jumped. The one person that she never expected to run into, Patrick Jane, was bending over her, practically whispering in her ear. He always through her off center and this was no different.

 

“I didn't—I didn't realize that you lived here. I never would have—“ She stammered, unsure of what to say, not sure if he was mad or upset that she was here. It truly wasn't planned, but would be believe her?

 

“Don't worry. I don't think you're stalking me. You're here with your cousin, yes?” She barely nodded, still new to the team, still new to Jane, still new to the way that he always seemed to know what she was thinking and doing. “Is that the infamous Yolanda?” He gestured towards her cousin, currently being fawned over by not only her surfer, but also his friend who had put the sunscreen on Grace.

 

“Yes.” She silently hoped that he didn’t want to be introduced. It was one thing being embarrassed and trying to still uphold her beliefs in front of people she barely knew, it was another thing entirely to have him publicly insult her cousin for things that she truly believed were possible.

 

“Don't worry; I'm not going to ask you to introduce me.” He smiled at her. “Come for a walk with me.” She looked around, over at her cousin absorbed in the attention of stereotypical California male and then back to Jane.

 

“Ok.” She stood, not sure where they were going to go, not sure why she felt like she left her stomach on the towel behind her, but knew that this was something she needed to do. They walked along the beach, talking of everything and nothing. The sun soared in the sky making a slow decent to the ocean. They walked up to his house, though they didn't go in. There wasn't a need to. And when the sun was setting, when it was being swallowed by the waves she made her way back to her cousin alone.

 

“Where have you been?” She asked, though her anger was only half formed, a day of beautiful men and warm sand having distracted her so thoroughly that she'd only now realized that Grace was gone.

 

“I went for a walk.” Was the only explanation.

 

Now, standing not on the beach, but on the sidewalk, and not with the sun but the moon lighting her path she thought again of that first day. She wasn't sure why she was there. She had turned and was about to leave when the door opened.

 

“Grace.” And that was all she needed.


	2. If You Were a Sailboat

We almost died today. And in the aftermath of the guns and smoke there was only one thought in both of our heads. And now we are together. It wasn't something that either of us saw coming, but it came nonetheless. In a dusty old hotel room in some backwaters town after a case that no one will talk about or think about in three months’ time we came together. It wasn't planned. There wasn't an elaborate set up. But together we tried to make sure that we were both alive. We should be with other people. We shouldn't be together, but we are. And we are alive. This may be the first time, but we know it will not be the last. And we cling together in the knowledge that we are alive and that we will be alive and that we survived together.


	3. Salvation

The first thing he said when she opened the door was “I'm sorry.” And then he pushed his way into her apartment.

What are you doing here? Was what she had wanted to ask, but never got the words out before he started talking.

“I'm sorry that I couldn't help you hide your relationship longer. I'm sorry that I didn't try. I’m sorry that I still care for you, that I’ve always cared for you, that I think I love you. Since that first case when you checked your luggage and wore your old letterman jacket. I tried to ignore it because that’s what I do. But I couldn’t.”

“Jane?” She was confused, and rightly so. This was the last thing she had expected when she saw him through the peephole in her door. The tears that she had shed for Rigsby were still fresh on her cheeks, and this was not what she had expected.

“I wanted what you had with Rigsby to work because I wanted you to be happy. I wanted nothing more than to see you smile.”

“You’re a jerk.” Anger was quickly becoming the overriding emotion in the tumult that was her soul. 

“I know.” He stood there watching her and visibly deflated, so unlike what she was used to. “That day on the beach, I knew I was lost. Then, that one time in that one town…and it was wrong. It was the wrong decision to make. I should have gone to Lisbon, or sat alone. And you should have gone to Rigsby that night. I should have pushed you away. But I’m selfish. I always have been. I wanted you, even if it was for just a moment.”

She remembered that night but anger was still bringing under the surface. Jane pushed and pulled and manipulated everything, everyone, for his pleasure. He thought he could control her, her life, the people she loved.

“Go to hell.” She turned her back on him and walked into her bedroom. He could see himself out.

“I can’t leave. Because you are still crying over a man who’s not good enough for you and I can’t stand to see you cry.”

She stood by her bed, sighed, and turned to face him where he stood in the doorway. “Why, Jane? Why now? Why at all?”

“I don’t have much to live for.” He looked at the floor and rubbed a hand through his hair. “But you why I come to work. Why I pick over your choice of dates. Why I cared at all about the man who later tried to kill us both. I want the best for you because your smile and trusting nature keep me coming back.”

She turned to face him, her eyes still bright with tears. “I can’t do this tonight Jane. Please just leave.”

And against all odds, he did just that.


	4. How We're Made

How many times had she been outside this house? How many times since she told him she needed time, she couldn’t deal with his confession? And each time she had left before she could walk to the door. The moon was bright tonight, hanging high in the sky, large and full. The windows were dark, but she knew that he was there. His car was in the driveway. Darkness was an old friend of his she knew he would not need light to wallow.

She wasn’t sure why she was here, guilt maybe? She took a deep breath and moved up the walk to the door. She raised her hand to knock and thought better of it. She thought back to the first time she had come here, to that sunny day on the beach and smiled. Life had seemed so simple back then. She shook her head. She shouldn’t have come. She turned to leave, was walking away, when she heard the door open and her name fall from his lips, soft, but echoing in the silence of the night.

“Grace.” 

She smiled and turned to him. “Jane.”  
He moved aside so that she could enter. The house was darker than she expected with the door shutting out the light of the moon.

“You finally got the courage to come in.” He said, standing close.

“I did.” She could feel her breath on his skin and took a deep breath, breathing in his sent. 

“Why?”

“Because I need you as much as you need me.” Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness and she could see the outline of Jane, the small amount of moonlight shining through the dusty windows setting the tops of his curls aglow.

“I’m not the easy choice.” His voice was calm; it was always calm, and soothing.

“I know. I don’t want easy. I want you.”

She didn’t even see him move before she felt his lips on hers. It had been too long since she’d felt him this way. Too long since he’d held her in his arms. 

“Stay with me.” He whispered against her neck.

“Always.”


	5. One Day You Will

“FBI guy?” I want to know but I don’t want to know. Our relationship has always been one best hidden in corners and brought out on dark nights. I want to be with her. I want to have her always in my arms, but I know that can’t always be the case. 

“His name is Craig. He’s sweet.” And I can see what she’s not saying, behind her eyes. This is a relationship she can take home to mom and dad. This is a man that she can show to the world. She can hold him up, say THIS IS HIM, and be proud.

“He’s not good enough.”

“Rigsby is jealous.” As if that matters.

“What about me?” I ask. We shouldn’t be doing this, but we are.

“I’m here with you right now.” She placed a sort kiss on my lips, but I couldn’t kiss her back.

“Why?”

“I love you. I just…you know. I can’t take you home. We can’t go out. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex as much as the next girl, but sometimes I want more.”

“And I can’t give you that.”

“He’s just a fling. He doesn’t mean anything.” She is on my lap, and I want to believe her, but we’ve been together too long. I know her. This man, this FBI guy, is going to steal her from me. This man is going to take from me what little bit of life I’ve managed to rebuild. And I am powerless to stop it. 

I am a coward. I hide in the darkness. I crave the ease of a no strings attached relationship. And this is what I’ve got. Sex and hugs and love but no time out. And I’m going to loose her.


	6. Better

He tried to kill me. He shot Lisbon. He worked for Red John. I almost married a Red John minion. I am—was—in love with the buddy of a serial killer. A man who thought nothing of shooting two local cops who were guilty of nothing but sitting in their squad car. And I’m the one who let him in.

 

I’m the one who let him see the chink in our armor. I’m the one who told him where we were.

 

But it’s worse. How can it be worse? The man I love—can you love more than one man at a time—was sitting in a jail cell. And I can’t help but be responsible. Oh, I know that he won’t be found guilty; I have no doubt that he will be able to talk his way out of a conviction. He’s that good. But it is because of me that he’s there.

 

It’s only a few days since the jury returned a verdict that shocked no one who knew Jane. I haven’t see him. I can’t bring myself to see him, to speak to him. Knowing that I am partially responsible for why he was there in the first place.

 

“It’s not your fault Grace.” I jump. I forgot he had a key.

 

“Yes it is.” I can’t look at him, but I can feel him staring at me from the doorway.

 

“I love you. I should have never let you go.”

 

“You didn’t let me go, I left.”

 

“And see where that got us. You kill your fiancé; I kill a supposed unarmed man in the middle of a shopping mall. We are better together.”

 

“Yeah.” I laugh, dry and humorlessly. “It’s not too late, it is?”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

He walks towards me, and I stand. In his arms, I feel as though I am finally home.


	7. Safe & Sound

The storm raging outside the window was nothing compared to the storm that was waging inside of her apartment.

 

“I will NOT accept this!” She shouted, knowing that it was out of her character to raise her voice, but not caring.

 

“It's the right thing.” His voice, it was always his voice, was calm and it made here even more upset.

 

“I don't understand.” She said, her voice little more than a whisper now, though it wasn't any better than a scream with the velocity behind it.

 

“It's not safe. Didn’t Craig show you that? Didn't dating him show you that Red John will stop at nothing it make life miserable for us, to make it so that he winds, that he has the upper hand?”

 

She looked at him in disbelief. He would bring that up. In the midst of telling her why they couldn't be together, why they shouldn't be together, he would bring up the one thing she herself always thought of when she thought of how messed up her life had become. She looked at him with fire in her eyes.

 

“You know every button to push. You know every crevice of my soul. You know what haunts me in the night when I can't sleep. And you think nothing of bringing them up now.” She took a breath to steady her anger, to steady her voice, ready to crack under the pressure. “You do it on purpose. You want me to get mad. You want me to be mad. You want me to be pissed off at you so you can feel better about this.”

 

He said nothing, just looked away from her.

 

“Just remember Patrick, that you are the one who called this off. That you are the one standing her today telling me that it can't be. And remember, in the dark night when you can't sleep and the world has abandoned you that I was here for you. I was the one that was here for you. No judging, no presumptions. Just me and you.”

 

She turned around, not wanting him to see her cry. She didn't look back, even when she heard him leave.


	8. Paradise Lost

“Grace!” He gasped as he collapsed on top of her. In response, she moaned and sighed. She had given what she felt was an Oscar worthy performance and was exhausted by the effort.

 

“Wayne, that was amazing.” She sighed again as he rolled off her. She didn't know why we was here, not really. The radio talk show host had reminded her go what they had shared, and a post of her yearned for that closeness once again.

 

Showing up on his doorstep hadn't been planned. She had been out driving, trying to figure out the complicated emotions that were swirling in her head. And here they were.

 

“I've missed you,” Wayne said, rolling on his side to face her. She smiled.

 

“Me too.” She turned her head to face him. She had to admit, he was very handsome. She reached out to stroke his hard muscular expanse of a chest. This was what had first drawn her to him, his looks. That first night at the dreadful seafood restaurant she probably would have said yes, had Jane not called Wayne out. She had felt alone and awkward and could have used the comfort.

 

Looking back now, she was glad that she hadn't done it. When they did get together they knew each other so much better, the decision was done with a more level head. It wasn't just because she was alone.

 

“Are you going to stay here tonight?” Wayne asked, pulling her close to him so she could rest her head on his chest.

 

“I should go home,” she said, though she settled into his arms and closed her eyes. She knew that she should leave, knew she should go to her own home. But his arms were warm and his touch was gentle and she drifted off to sleep.

 

She woke early the next morning, sneaking out so she could go home and shower, to try to pretend that last night never happened. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, or at least most of it, because she did. But she had a scene of guilt. She had once again broken the CBI rules. And she dreaded facing Jane, he would know. That was almost worse.

 

Though he had been the one to effectively put an end to anything that may have been happening between them, there was still an attachment. She still felt guilt about it no matter how ridiculous that was.

 

She arrived at work at the same tie she usually did, hoping that Wayne would be discreet, but not holding out much hope for it. So she sat at her desk trying to work with Wayne staring at her the whole time. She finally got a reprieve when he went to get coffee and almost jumped out of her skin when a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder and she felt a soft breath on her neck.

 

“You're glowing,” Jane whispered. “You must have had a good time last night.”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She mumbled, not wanting to draw attention.

 

“I just want you to be happy. I'm glad that you are back together, it makes me happy.”

 

And like that, he was gone. She missed the feel of his hand on her arm, his breath on her neck. Then Wayne sat back at his desk and smiled at her and she sighed. It was good.

 

With that, she looked down at her desk and moved on.


End file.
